


out of their forgiveness supplies

by newbie1990



Category: Christian Bible (New Testament)
Genre: Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-23
Updated: 2018-03-23
Packaged: 2019-04-07 01:25:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 513
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14069889
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/newbie1990/pseuds/newbie1990
Summary: just judas thinkin' sadly to himself.





	out of their forgiveness supplies

it’s past halfway through the night and his mouth tastes of sand. he remembers choking on mouthfuls, much smaller, much weaker. anger twists in his gut and as much as he thinks about murder and keeping the law it’s still there, a knot inside of him. there’s so much mess inside of him. every word he says is dipped in poison. he sits up and drags a hand over his face. they’re on the roof of someone’s house and the stars are bright, and of course He has insisted on sleeping up here with them, instead of in the guest room He kept being offered. (john and peter are sharing it, thanks to lots and favoritism.)

judas isn’t sure when he started being He, when being a disciple tipped over into blasphemy. maybe it isn’t. the looks he catches on that face sometimes. it’s not like He’s seen God, it’s like judas is. it burns, settles like an ember somewhere inside of him. he feels like they’ll need it, someday. that, or it’ll burn him up.

everything might burn him up, might drown it out. has he seen poison catch light? he’s seen burning, in his dreams and in rumours, scriptures and lies. hananiah and azariah, the feet burning bronze. god is a fire, gehenna too. he knows people who wishes they still burned their children. yeshua speaks with such tenderness to them, such laughter. promises millstones to those who would return to those days, and judas feels it like a benediction.

the press of lips against his forehead, once, a warm thumb. like an anointing, and he’d looked so sad, afterwards. human again, not a burning torch, and God somewhere there behind the eyes with a sadness that made him feel like his bones were screaming.

he’s a wound in the universe, and he wants those lips to stitch him back together. he wants them hot and mumbling against the joints of his neck. and there it is, that sweet sin that sparks its strange fire in his veins. he can’t even regret it, now. it’s so late, and he aches with tiredness and love for this man. sin and adoration blur together, indistinguishable.

he can imagine the taste of a kiss, hasty in some dark corner, salt and wine and sorrow. he feels a tear slip down his cheek like a secret, doesn’t swipe it roughly away. he lets the night have it, lets himself mourn sins uncommitted. He loves him, he knows that, and in that embrace he can believe he can do no wrong. his limbs are warm and filled with light, and he thinks of lips again, soft and tender, closes his damp eyes.

those lips spoke the world into motion, spoke the secrets of the stars, they were far too holy to taste his skin. he’d melt away, he’d burn up. they carried the salvation of israel like a pearl inside an oyster, and all he wanted was to kiss until his tongue ached, to feel them brush against him. he’d melt and burn all the same.

**Author's Note:**

> title from brand new - you won't know.


End file.
